Rejection Is The Greatest Aphrodisiac
by Laugiana
Summary: I have UPPDATED!!! Made changes and a whole new chapter! Sum: Hermione decides to crack Snape.
1. Take Action

Rejection is the greatest aphrodisiac.  
  
R-rated.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't make any money and I do not claim to own J. K. Rowlings characters. I do however own this plot.  
  
Authors notes: I have changed a bit in this chapter because Hermione wasn't acting the way I wanted her to. That is why I've been silent so long. I just couldn't write a story with that Hermione. Now that I changed her and her motives I hope I'll be able to write more frequently. And hopefully keep them both in character through out the story. Thank you for waiting, and thank you for reading now.  
  
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Hermione shivered as she walked slowly through the dungeons to the Potions classroom. A detention would be the last thing any student at Hogwards would want, any student but her. She couldn't say she liked Snape, but his intellect intrigued her, his cold manor enticed her, his physical person beckoned her. She would have killed herself before admitting this to her fellow students, but she wanted Snape. Desired him. Well, not so much desired him as she desired knowing him. The physical desire was merely a biproduct of her fading puberty's hormones. Biproduct or not, desires exist to be fulfilled and her femme fatal within told her that by getting the one she was likely to get the other. She shivered again for different reasons then the clammy atmosphere and took a deep breath to compose herself before knocking on the door before her.  
  
"Enter."  
  
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The Professor was sitting at his desk reading the students work and didn't look up to acknowledge her presence.  
  
"You will be grading the first year's exams. You will grade them with one point given for a correct answer and one point drawn for an incorrect one. No points will be given if the student is "close enough" or if the student "at least tried". Is that clear, Miss Granger?" The last part of his speech was delivered with a sneer and an impatient hand waving in the direction of a pile of parchments laying on one of the front desks.  
  
Hermione found this a strangely light punishment considering his contempt for her, but ignored her curiosity and set to work.  
  
The hours slowly ticked by as she graded the papers before her, sometimes smiling at the attempts made by the children, sometimes sighing as she remembered her own first exam.  
  
Finally the teacher put down his quill and stretched, causing Hermione to let her gaze stray from the parchments before her to the lithe body enticing her senses. Her mind slipped away and she imagined herself being lifted from her seat by strong hands and wrapped into a searing kiss as her body was pushed onto the desk behind her. The strong man above her spread her legs and grinded into her heated core as the kiss grows deeper.  
  
"Miss Granger! May I have your attention?"  
  
Hermione was slightly flushed and panting as she was thrown out of her daydream only to be faced with the professor again, him more than slightly annoyed with her slip from reality.  
  
Snape studied her closely as she composed herself and sneered.  
  
"May I ask where you "went", Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione gasped silently and tried to compose herself again, to no avail.  
  
"Well, I.. Um. I was. thinking. of.um. things. um. that. Oh, God. I. I'm. I'm so sorry, Professor."  
  
Her face turned crimson as she stuttered out her apology and she diverted her gaze to the floor.  
  
"Was that a display off your brilliance, Miss Granger? I asked you what you found so important that you let it shift your attention from your task at hand, I expect you to answer me, girl."  
  
She took a deep breath and tried to think of something to say when her attention yet again shifted to the man in front of her. She saw his handsome face, his deep, black eyes, and his lips. 'If only I could break him. Crack his shell.' Hermione really was tired of her professor's demeanour. Always so cold, stiff and harsh. God forbid he would ever hint of any kind of humanity within himself. She was 17 now, 18 with that dafted timeturner, but the 11-year-old that once had stepped through the gates of Hogwards were still firmly in place within her. The thirst for knowledge, the curiosity, the way she never gave up, those qualities were still intact. The only difference now were the things that intrigued her. Then it was school subjects and "ways to banish evil wizards trying to take over the world". Quite noble subjects. Now it was Snape. Quite noble, that too. Oh, how she wished she could make a dent, a crack, a tiny peephole. To shock him. Without thinking she stepped forward and invaded his personal sphere.  
  
She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, relishing his warmth. A soft moan escaped her before she broke the kiss and stepped back. One look at his face told her that he had not enjoyed her actions the way she had. His eyes were every bit as cold and unyielding as they always were. She cringed at the intensity of his despise as he spoke.  
  
"If you are quite finished, Miss Granger, you may leave now."  
  
As she walked out of the classroom, the rejection burning inside of her, her determination to break him had only doubled.  
  
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Hope you liked it, and please review! I need constructive criticism. 


	2. Memories

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As he watched her walk out of the classroom, Snape shuddered with anger. How dare she? How dare she invade his personal space? How dare she kiss him? He didn't like to be touched by her any more than he liked being touched by anyone else. If his skin touched anyone else's it would be on his own conditions. And having a student disrupt his control was not one of them.  
  
Not that she had noticed though. Outward his persona was as it always had been in her presence. Cold. Rejecting. As it should be. As it must.  
  
He sighed and looked down at the parchments lying on the desk before him. Why had he given her this assignment? Why not scrub cauldrons until her fingers bled? Why not make her handle vile substances? Why not hand her over to Finch? Why had he given her tests to grade? He knew she had enjoyed the task, he had seen her smiling. It wasn't really a punishment to her at all. More of an interesting pastime. He had given her that task simply because he didn't want to do it himself. He was no fool. He knew Granger was the most intelligent student to pass trough Hogwards in years. She was the only one he could give such a task to without having to worry about her grading it wrong, having to ask him for the right answers or hurry trough it just to get it done. It wasn't much of a punishment for her, more a relief for him, which he welcomed gladly.  
  
Picking up the parchments he eyed through them. She had done a good job. Just as he expected her to. He might let her grade all of the younger years exams as extra credit. Then he remembered what she had done. Damn that girl. Why had she gone and done that? To her teacher. To him. He fled the potions classroom for his chambers and a glass of Merlot.  
  
Sitting in front of the fire the wine was soon forgotten in his hand. Instead his mind did circles trying to figure out the reason for Grangers action.  
  
A dare?  
  
No, Potter and Weasley wouldn't want their precious Granger near him. He had seen the looks on their faces when he handed out her detention. They wouldn't dare her and she would never accept.  
  
Pity?  
  
No, Granger wasn't one to pity. It was obvious that she held strongly onto the beliefs that you make your own bed.  
  
A charm or potion?  
  
No, he surely would have noticed any such behaviour.  
  
What was it then? A crush?  
  
Could she be so deranged? To fall for a teacher? He pondered this for a moment. She was intellectually advanced for her age. None of the other students measured up to her. Perhaps in her quest for mental stimulation she had confused her desire for companionship with desire of the flesh? But why him? That was an easy question. He was the youngest, male faculty member.  
  
Still. It was so out of character for Granger to do what she did. Granted she had the "Gryffindor courage" but that wasn't it. When he had discovered her lack of concentration her eyes had been heavy and glazed over, her mouth slightly open and her breath ragged. Then when he had caught her attention she had been very flustered and embarrassed, but then her attention shifted again just before she had. kissed him. It certainty was strange to think about. Could it really have been so that she had been fantasizing about him? Them? Doing.. that? It seemed so highly unlikely, but yet.she had kissed him. And seemingly liked it. Her soft moan rang in his ears. She had been so close he could feel her heat through both their robes. Her breath was sweet and heavy. Her lips so soft and gentle.  
  
As he realized what he was thinking about, Snape bolted from his chair and started pacing the sitting room. She's a confused student and not someone you are allowed to fantasize about.  
  
But. how could she kiss him? He's intimidating. Mean. Cold. Unyielding. Repulsive.  
  
She is so. Everything he's not.  
  
The thoughts of her touch and closeness eventually brought back the old memories that originally made him loath touch from women.  
  
The first girl he raped.  
  
Granger's touch brought back memories from his time as a Death Eater and the fear and self-loathing that came with them.  
  
He would never forget the fear in that innocent girls face. Her screams as he used her. Her tears as her skin ripped. Her slack face after he killed her.  
  
His pleasure.  
  
The one thing he would never let himself forget was how much he enjoyed it.  
  
Granger had brought these memories up to the surface. She had made him, if only for a split second, want her. That scared him. It scared him that her touch made him want to touch her back.  
  
His first time was a rape, as was his last.  
  
If he touched her, he would hurt her.  
  
He hoped to god these thoughts were banished from her mind after his cold rejection. If she pushed harder she would make him remember more. Make him hate her more. Maybe even touch her. Images of her bleeding and broken, screaming beneath him flashed through his mind.  
  
In hurried steps he walked to a cabinet filled with small flasks and vials. Searching through them he found a small white vial and poured its milky contents into his wine glass. Swirling the now light red liquid around he walked back through the sitting room and into his bedroom. There he stripped for the night, not bothering with anything else, and swallowed the contents of the glass before sliding under the covers. Slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep he was free from the vile images in his mind. At least for a while.  
  
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Thank you for reading! Please review! 


	3. Glory Box

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Walking back to her dormitories Hermione was surprised, annoyed and angry. Surprised at how her professor had kept his composure so completely. There wasn't even a touch of shock in his eyes. Not a sliver. How could that be? Had he somehow seen it coming? Could he read her mind? Nonsense. So annoying. Not the slightest dent in his armour. It was like he wasn't even human. Perhaps he had sold his soul to join the Death Eaters. Was he nothing but an empty shell? No. Empty shells break easily. He was filled with something and she was determined to find out what. Despite her determination she was also angry. Angry at his lack of response to her. Not to her action but to her. Wasn't she pretty enough? Sexy? Bright? Charming? Alluring? Bloody enticing? She sneered to herself. Were her eyes not deep and mysterious enough? Her hair not the right kind of soft and silky? Was there something wrong with her body? Her lips? Her voice? How the fuck dare he not react?! She was interrupted by a pompously pronounced "Password?" Looking up she found the Pink Lady staring down at her. "Fortitudo." She said it in an annoyed voice. The new password was Latin, meaning physical strength, courage and moral bravery. Wouldn't it be shocking if someone guessed that one, ey? She stepped through the archway and spotted Harry and Ron at a table playing chess. She stood there for a second, just watching them. The bright eyed and innocent boys of yesterday were gone. In their place sat two cynical and rather jaded young men, changed by time, just as it had changed her. All their encounters with Voldermort had made them lose their innocence. Although perhaps Harry had lost his first as he watched the boyfriend of his then crush die because he had been so damned Gryffindorish. Nothing is simple and one sided. She had that summer after 4th year understood why Snape despised Gryffindor. Not for it's people, but for what the name made them do. She smiled at her friends and sat down. "How was detention? You've been away a while." "It wasn't so bad, just felt long." There was no heated comment from Ron about Snape. Ron hand lost his temperament. He had learned the hard way what hate does to people and didn't want part in it. Snape and Malfoy didn't make him tick anymore and Draco had stopped trying a long time ago. They both made him sigh though. Hermione missed the young and innocent Ron and Harry. The boys who had gone to save the world with fire in their eyes. She missed herself too. Looking around she saw the children of her house and felt so old. Perhaps that was why she had this obsession with Snape. Perhaps she needed someone more jaded and cynical to feel young and alive. Perhaps. Or perhaps she was just to bloody curious. Either way, she needed to figure out a way to get to her professor and there is nothing like a good night's sleep to reflect on things. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you for reading and please review! 


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